


Blood and Steel

by samanthinator



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Siblings, F/M, Mild Language, One Shot Collection, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthinator/pseuds/samanthinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots in the Mass Effect universe, centered around my two Earthborn Shepards. John is the older brother, and the sole survivor of Akuze. He left the Alliance soon after that and became a freelance mercenary. Adrianne is a recipient of the Star of Terra, the younger sister, and the canon Shepard.</p><p>Chapters aren't likely to be in chronological order, but will make sense with one another. Any event from pre-ME1 to post-ME3 is fair game, and I'll make sure to include when/what each chapter is about in the title. POV will probably change from chapter to chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. About Horizon, ME2

**Author's Note:**

> So, first fanfiction ever. Go me! Anyway, this is how I wish the Horizon meeting with the Virmire Survivor during ME2 had gone.  
> The Mass Effect series belongs to Bioware, I'm just playing with it.
> 
> First person, John's POV.

_Horizon. Iera System. Shadow Sea._

“Mordin,” my sister, the great Adrianne Shepard, began, looking to the salarian scientist currently modding my armor to accept his ‘upgrades’. “Are you sure these armor upgrades will protect us from the seeker swarms?”

Addy, Zaeed, and I were sitting in the armory, running through the pre-mission equipment checks and getting our armor suits ‘upgraded’. I don’t trust anything that someone other than me puts into my suit, just on principle, but that was still the million-credit question. One I’d been worried about ever since Mordin put his hands on my armor, along with idly hoping that he didn’t screw up the settings too much. Judging by the subtle shift in the posture of the mercenary across the table, Zaeed was just as interested in Mordin’s answer as me.

“Certainty impossible,” Mordin replied, looking up from his omnitool and facing the three of us. “But in limited numbers, should confuse detection, make us invisible to swarms.” He paused for a moment, switching his attention back to his ‘tool. “In theory.”

“In theory?” Zaeed asked, lifting his eyebrows. The old merc was at least as paranoid about his equipment as me; I think he wanted equipment that only worked ‘in theory’ about as much as me, too.

“Experimental technology. Only test is contact with seeker swarms.” The salarian smiled brightly, looking up again. “Looking forward to seeing if you survive!”

Right then, I really didn’t share the salarian’s optimism.

* * *

 

I took a deep breath, sagging against the stack of tires I was using as cover. The four-legged walking nightmare with lasers and a belly full of husk heads was finally dead. Well, disintegrating itself in midair. Whatever.  We could come up with a clever name for it, along with one for the weird cannon-wielding monstrosity, later. Had to give it to the Collectors, though, they’re pretty good at making nightmare fuel.

I managed to straighten up and walk back over to Zaeed and Addy, ignoring the familiar hunger pangs that set in after a good fight. I looked up toward the Collector ship just in time to see the engines fire up. The ground quaked, and the pressure wave from the ship almost toppled me over. They were getting the hell out of Dodge. Fast. Still, my stupid mouth couldn’t help but point out the obvious.

“They’re pulling out!” I said, looking up toward the ship rocketing toward space. “No reason to stay. Most of the colonists are on board. They got what they came for.” Yeah, well, not like you’d mistake me for an optimist. The mechanic we’d seen earlier, locked up in the garage, came running out just in time to see the ship leave the atmosphere. His name was Dylan or something, I think. At least the guy had grown a pair and come outside.

My sister tried calming him down, telling him she did all that she could. Pretty sure Zaeed said something, but I tuned their conversation out.  Addy was always better with people. ‘Hero of Humanity’ and all that. Me, I’m just John, the asshole Sentinel with the scars and the scary reputation.

A fourth voice turns my attention back to them, though.

“Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy. First human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel.” No way, my mind vainly protested. “You’re in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost.”

Kaidan Alenko. I didn’t particularly like the guy back on the SR-1, but I don’t particularly like most people. I had some respect for him, though. All the crap he’s dealt with, as an L2? Plus the whole BAat fiasco. Making the transformation from a kid to a killer isn’t an easy one, and it’s a change I’m pretty damn intimate with. Him and Addy hit it off really well, honestly, but I pretty much ignored that; Addy had long since convinced me to let her deal with her relationships. In exchange, she did the same with mine.

So, I ignored the flash of anger when he called her a traitor. Ignored the growing urge to throw the other Sentinel against the nearest hard surface with my biotics as the man spoke. For the sake of that promise.

“I could use someone like you on my crew, Kaidan. It'll be just like old times,” Addy said, taking a hesitant step toward Alenko, a hint of hope in her voice.

“No, it won't. I'll never work for Cerberus,” he replied, shaking his head and turning around. He looked over his shoulder, adding, “Goodbye, Shepard. And be careful.” Then he turned and started to walk away.

‘Be careful’? After claiming he loved her, then calling her a traitor? The words struck a chord within me, something deep and hidden and shaped a lot like the woman he’d just insulted. An overwhelming surge of protectiveness busted through all the mental filters that usually prevented me from doing stupid, usually violent things. Promise be damned, nobody talks to my sister like that.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho, that is not okay.” I didn’t know what I was going to do. Didn’t know what I was going to say. I just stepped towards Alenko, hell-bent on doing something. “You don’t get to just walk after saying all that, Alenko.” I quickly take a few more steps, and grab his shoulder once he’s within arm’s reach.

When he throws a punch at my face, I’m ready for it. Years of combat experience, from the slums of London to the Alliance to mercenary work, kick in and I grab his fist. Speed, rather than power or control, has always been my biggest weapon, and I land a solid punch to the stomach before Alenko can even think about avoiding it.

Not enough of a blow to do major damage, not with the armor he’s wearing, but it is enough to knock him on his ass. So I crouch down to his level, meeting his eyes. He’s glaring daggers, and I know I’m doing the same.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I wave my hand and cut him off before he can get the words out.

“No, you’ve said plenty already. So just shut up and listen for a damn minute.” I pause, considering my words for once. I’m not good with them. Never really have been. Although, there’s not much ‘action’ I can do in a situation like this that won’t end in bloodshed, so they’re all I’ve got.

“You aren’t the only one who got torn up by my sister’s death, you know. Hardest two years of my life.” I chuckle, but it’s humorless. “What really pissed me off about the whole damn thing was the Alliance bending over backwards for the Council. We put months of work into finding Saren, into discovering the Reapers, and it was all blown away. Turned out that the geth attacked the Citadel, and Sovereign was just a really nice piece of their tech. Colonies, ships in the Terminus start disappearing, and, hell, that’s just mercs and pirates. Oh, the freaky ship that blew up the Normandy? The ship that killed the only family I had? Geth. Again. Even though that’s impossible. And the great Commander Shepard? They slap her face on a few posters while throwing away everything she did for them.”

I take a deep breath, raking a hand across my buzzed scalp.

“I don’t know how that shit made you feel, Alenko. Hell, I don’t really care. Giving a damn about your mental health is my sister’s problem. But it pissed me off. And when she came back? Strolling through the entrance of Afterlife like nothing had happened? I can’t even,” I didn’t have words for my feelings at that second. It was like all the pain from the last two years slapped me in the face, but there was some desperate hope, too. Hell, I didn’t know. Still don’t. “Don’t even have words for that moment. But we talked, you know? I asked things. Things only me and her know, no matter how good of research those Cerberus bastards might have done.” I stopped talking again, trying to figure out how to get my point across. “So, that’s Adrianne. Without a doubt in my mind, that’s the girl I’ve been looking after since we were tiny kids.”

Kaidan hadn’t expected that. He’d probably expected that phrase or something like it, maybe, but not the confidence in my voice. Not the certainty in my eyes.

“I sure as hell wouldn’t be here is she was anyone but my little sister. You remember Ontarom, Alenko?” I ask, unable to help the hitch in my voice. That mission was nasty. Seeing Toombs again? Watching him kill a scientist, then blowing his own head off? Those memories were still raw. All the memories this speech was bringing back were. “If anyone’s got a reason to hate Cerberus for what they’ve done, it’s me. So yeah, I can tell you that Adrianne isn’t Cerberus. And I’m working for her, not for them.” I take another breath, soften my tone. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all of my sister’s big ole speeches and watching her charm the pants off people, it’s that anger is pretty inspirational. But softness is compelling. “Between the two of us, Kaidan, you’re the better man. No doubt about that. So if I can work through my issues for somebody that I love and respect, then you can do the same.  Might take some time, sure. Might take a ton of talking, sure. And hey, you two might not even get back together. But you can try, right?”

“Still as optimistic as ever, John,” Kaidan replies sarcastically. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Not a rejection, at least, and that’s a good sign. I helped him to his feet with a soft chuckle. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes meeting Addy’s. She’d been sitting. Watching, I guess. “I’ll need some time,” he begins, tone more serious. “But I’d like to talk more sometime, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, I think I could manage that,” Addy replies, smiling softly. She was quiet for a second, but brightened a bit more when an idea popped into her head. “You could catch a ride back to the Citadel with us, if you’d like.”

* * *

 

The SR-2 had been docked at the Citadel for a couple of hours, and I was sitting in the lounge having a nice, quiet drink. Processing, for the most part. Dealing with the feelings my grand little speech had dragged back into the light. Although I was definitely waiting for news, too. It would be great to know that I hadn’t royally screwed it all up.

The door slides open with a hiss, and my attention instantly snaps to it. Addy’s standing in the doorway, looking tired but…Satisfied, would be the word, I think. She slides into the seat next to me, and I hand her one of the beers I’d dug out of Kasumi’s little stash.

“So?” I ask, after she’d taken a long drink.

“Well, it won’t be easy,” she replied, looking at me. She smiles fondly, and I can’t help but return the expression. “But anything worth having is worth working for, I guess. Next time, though, keep your nose out of my business.” The second sentence is said seriously, but the smile still lingering on her face says otherwise.

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” I reply, grinning widely and giving her a mock salute.


	2. Chatting, right before ME1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chat between Kaidan and Adrianne, after they’re assigned to the Normandy but before Eden Prime. It’s them talking about N7 training pre-relationship, and something quick I wrote up at two in the morning while editing a larger chapter. So, I apologize if it’s terrible.
> 
> And yes, I did check the info on the ME wiki, and on Bioware’s blog.
> 
> ICT = Interplanetary Combatives Training, or N-School.
> 
> First Person, Adrianne’s POV

“So, Commander,” Alenko begins, looking up from his mostly finished tray. “You’re an N7, right?”

Alenko and I were sitting together at one end of the table in the Normandy’s mess hall, like we usually did. It wasn’t because we were an item or anything, even though the Staff Lieutenant was an attractive man. Biotics were still regarded with suspicion by most people, thanks to bullshit rumors about our ‘mind control powers’ and ‘telepathy’, combined with outright prejudice from hardline religious groups and various horror stories spread around by the press about biotics driven crazy by their own implants. So, most of the crew were hesitant around both of us, to say the least, even though Alenko had at least a dozen special commendations and I was a Star of Terra recipient.

Pulling my head out of my thoughts and looking at my subordinate, I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Six years, now.”

“Is ICT as hard as it’s supposed to be, then?” he asked, leaning forward, curiosity plain in his voice.

“No, of course not,” I say, waving my hand. “It’s harder. Up to twenty hours of training a day, leading small squads through the worst simulated hells imaginable. Sometimes, you’re short on sleep. Other times, you’re short on supplies.” I smile widely, adding, “And that’s just the first course.”

“I can’t believe it. That only gets you to N1?” Alenko replies, shock in his voice. He was starting to realize why N ranked soldiers are some of the best humanity has to offer. “I’m scared to ask, but what are the other courses like?”

“Where you go and what you do depends on what you want to specialize in. Generally, though, by the time you’ve finished the N6 course, you’ve probably learned two new languages, fought in zero gravity, gained extensive close quarters combat experience, and been instructed in front line trauma care for human and alien physiology. Not to mention fought on asteroids, various planets, and occasionally starships.”

“And you’re getting actual combat experience in all those places?” he asked, sounding a bit impressed.

“Nah, they just drop you in the environment and simulate a mission. It’s about as realistic as they can make it without getting their recruits killed,” I answered.

“What about the N7 course?”

“There isn’t one.” I think back to when I got my designation, smiling softly. “The N7 designation requires surviving live combat in an ‘admirable and effective fashion’.” I can’t help the pride in my voice when I mention that. I had to earn those letters on my armor, and damn if receiving the N7 designation wasn’t the proudest moment in my life. The quick ceremony, performed by Anderson in the medbay of the SSV Kilimanjaro with me still wrapped up in bandages, was far from public, but it was perfect.

Alenko was quiet for a long moment, rubbing a scar on his lip. One I hadn’t noticed before then.

“You got your ranking after the Blitz, then? Six years ago?” he finally says, meeting my eyes. I realized, right then, that Kaidan Alenko was just as intelligent as the commendations on his file suggested.

“Yeah, I did,” I answer, smiling widely. Alright, maybe I liked this guy.


	3. Prompt 1, John and Jack, Post-war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was going to include this in a drabble collection thing that I’m working on, but then it got big and the FEELS, guys. And yeah, John is officially romancing Jack. 
> 
> Idea for the chapter is a prompt from the Imagine your OTP tumblr.
> 
> I really hope I played Jack correctly…
> 
> Prompt: Imagine your OTP crying because they found out the results of the pregnancy test.
> 
> Third Person Limited, Jack’s POV

Her hand shook visibly as she set the pregnancy test down on the counter. Dammit, she shouldn’t be so scared. Not over a tiny little stick. But it was what the stick meant that she was scared off, not the stick itself.

“Fuck,” she mumbled, voice quavering. She tried in vain to suppress the fear coming from deep in her chest, but her self-control had never been good.

She checked the time on her omnitool. Forty five seconds. Forty five seconds and she’d know. What if it was yes? If she was pregnant? Could she even take care of a child, be a decent parent? Yeah, she could take care of her students, but she didn’t come home to them, she came home to…Dammit, what was John going to think? Would he even want her anymore?

No, her internal voice says. She doesn’t need him. She doesn’t need anyone. Even as she thinks it, she knows it’s a lie. She needs her kids. She needs Shepard and the friends, the true friends, she’s made. She needs John, too, needs his stability and needs his stubborn faith in her even though she doesn’t know how she earned it and needs the happiness she feels with him. And hell, the sex is pretty good too. But that just brings her back to the issue at hand and she curses.

Shit, what the hell was she going to do? Run off? Leave him and try raising the kid on her own? That’s what the old Jack would do. But since she joined Shepard and her stupid-ass suicide squad, she’d changed. She couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. Not now. Not to John. So, she was going to tell him and that thought scared the hell out of her, scared her almost as much as the thought of leaving did.

Her omnitool beeped, signaling the end of the time and startling her as she leaned on the counter. Tattooed hands shaking again, she picked up the test and looked at it.

“John?” she begins, stepping out of the bathroom. Something in her voice must have alerted him, because his eyes are on her almost instantly. “I’m pregnant.” She couldn’t help the catch in her voice when she says it.

His eyes meet hers and he’s reading her like an open book, reading all her doubts and fears and insecurities like he’s always done and even after all this time she still doesn’t know whether it pisses her off or turns her on. Then he’s standing in front of her, arms around her, hands on her back, voice soft and quiet and right in her ear.

“We’ll figure it out, Jack.”

She sags against him, arms around his waist, face buried in his chest, tears pricking her eyes. He tightens his arms, thumbs gently rubbing her sides.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She sobs softly, doesn’t even have words for her feelings right then, couldn’t begin to describe them even if she wanted to. Like how she felt when she was at that base back on Pragia, or on the first night they spent together. But she knows that she believes his words, knows that he’d move heaven and earth for her. Knows he loves her.

Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	4. Enlisting, pre-ME1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, been a while since I posted. Alright, so this is my attempt to begin to get the major events in John and Adrianne’s lives down, from them being enlisted in the Alliance to the end of the trilogy. I’ll probably end up rewriting a couple of the other three chapters at some point and putting them in chronological order at some other point, so bear with me, guys. I’ll get all this figured out somehow. c:
> 
> This chapter is how John and Adrianne first got enlisted in the Alliance.
> 
> Third Person Omniscient

Rear Admiral Lana Phillips leaned forward on her elbows, sighing softly. Ah, work. She reached out to take a sip of her usual morning coffee, but was interrupted by her omnitool flashing, and it indicated she had an incoming call from Earth. High priority. Her eyebrow rose when she saw where it was from. Curiosity finally won over caution, and she answered the call.

“Good morning, Admiral.” Lieutenant Commander David Anderson was not who she had expected to hear on the other end, especially since the call was from a London police department. She could only assume this was bad news.

“Commander. I granted you shore leave; I wasn’t expecting to hear from you for another week,” she stated, testing the waters. If he was in legal trouble, she needed to know. Her XO was a respectable soldier, sure, but shore leave and alcohol tended to be a bad combination.

“I am still on leave, ma’am, but there’s something I think I should show you.”

“What is it, Commander?”

“I’m sending you the files on two kids I…met recently,” Anderson began. Lana sighed softly, wondering what the hell this was all about. If the kids killed an officer or something, she didn’t even want to imagine the political shit-storm that would make. She gave Anderson the benefit of the doubt, though, and opened the files when they appeared on her omnitool.  “John and Adrianne Shepard. They’re the children of Staff Lieutenant Hannah Shepard and Flight Lieutenant Charles Thompson. Both were killed in action on Shanxi. The kids were sent to an orphanage in London.”

“So they’re orphans. Why are you bringing this to me, Commander?” Lana asked, carefully keeping the irritation out of her voice. She wished they were on a vid-call so she could glare at Anderson properly. She didn’t know what any of this had to do with her.

“I caught them robbing my apartment earlier today, Admiral. They’re both in custody.”

“Then file the charges, Commander. I am unable to see the reason why you’re involving me in this.” She doubted he was just looking for an advocate, but his tone suggested that he had something in mind for the pair, and that was enough to raise her curiosity. Even with the irritation.

“I believe we should recruit them, Admiral.”

That wasn’t what she had expected.

“What good could these two do in the Alliance? They’re orphans. Criminals,” Lana stated, mostly get her XO’s opinion than to protest. What could he see in these kids? She opened the files on her omnitool again, looking at the mug shots. The boy was dirty, with ragged brown hair and intense blue eyes. He was nineteen, born in late January, 2152. The girl was equally dirty, and definitely younger. She was barely seventeen, born in early April, 2154.

“I spoke with them just a few minutes ago,” Anderson began. Lana focused most of her attention to his voice, but continued browsing the files. “They’re both charismatic as hell, ma’am. Damn near convinced the police to release them before I got here. And the boy is a technical wizard.”

“How would you know that?” Lana asked, furrowing her brows. She knew he hadn’t just asked.

“He hacked the handcuff lock about halfway through our conversation, ma’am.”

Lana chuckled softly. Hacking a police-grade encryption was impressive, she had to admit. “Alright, what else is there?” she asked, just before finding something interesting in the files. Both were gang members, judging by their tattoos. Tenth Street Reds. She was unfamiliar with the name, but that didn’t mean that the gang wasn’t notable. She resolved to look into it later.

“Both of them are biotics. The boy is average, compared to the other children we’ve assessed, but the girl is…powerful.”

“How powerful?” she asked, stopping her browsing and focusing entirely on his voice. Lana didn’t trust biotics; she thought they were too powerful for their own good. Still, that alone was enough to recruit them. The Alliance had, for the most part, taken control of training biotic youths, due to the disaster at BAaT three years before, and they were looking for new trainees.

“Powerful enough to be put through the Vanguard program, ma’am,” Anderson replied, causing Lana to rub her chin and think. The Vanguard program was an idea, just a concept, really, for training biotics to merge their abilities with their combat skills, with the goal of creating soldiers that were essentially ‘human tanks’ trained to be deadly at close range. The program was technically ready, but they needed a guinea pig to test its efficiency on, first. If the girl was perfect for it…

Lana considered the pair for a long moment. If allowed to continue their criminal activities, they’d have to be brought in and locked away eventually. But if she had them brought to Arcturus, had them outfitted with implants, had them finish schooling and enlist, then they would be useful to society. Then again, if this went badly, she doubted the Alliance would be able to cover it up like they did at BAaT.

Decision made, she leaned forward on her desk and nodded, even though Anderson couldn’t see her.

“Bring them to Arcturus, Commander. But watch them carefully.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t trust him, Addy,” John stated as soon as the Alliance soldier left. He rubbed his wrists, inwardly glad that the soldier had removed the handcuffs. Even though he did so after John had pretty much done that himself.

“You barely trust me, John,” Adrianne retorted, crossing her arms. Her brother was so stubborn sometimes. “The Alliance is a way to get away from London. Get off of Earth.”

John shook his head, grumbling. “He’s got a motive. Something planned for us.” And whatever it was, John did not like it. Even if it was cupcakes and rainbows.

“We’ll deal with it when it comes, then. He said they’d help us finish school. That we could get training for our powers. John, we wouldn’t have to worry about flaring randomly anymore,” she insisted, trying to get her brother to see the benefits of accepting Anderson’s offer.

John sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Guess it’s better than prison,” he finally mumbled, relenting. His sister was right too often.

“Hey, maybe it’ll be fun,” Adrianne replied, smiling brightly. She was excited, honestly. Seeing a dreadnaught or a cruiser or Arcturus Station on the extranet were one thing, but seeing the ships she’d dreamed about since she was little in real life? Whole ‘nother level.

“Uh-huh.” John knew the Alliance would put them through hell. But it was a better hell than prison, and he’d die to keep Adrianne out of there. So he’d go with it. That didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

When Anderson walked back in a few minutes later, the pair gave him their answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you go. I'm just going to go ahead and shamelessly beg for reviews. c:


End file.
